


dreamland, in other words, a house of cards

by chouettesalangai



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Don't Examine This Too Closely, Gen, Lynch Family (Raven Cycle), Work In Progress, dreamland au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chouettesalangai/pseuds/chouettesalangai
Summary: Some things aren't meant to last.
Relationships: Declan Lynch & Niall Lynch, Declan Lynch & Ronan Lynch, Niall Lynch & Ronan Lynch
Kudos: 6





	dreamland, in other words, a house of cards

It starts like this.

Once, in land far, far away from ours, there was a beautiful, impossible kingdom, filled with beautiful, impossible things and beautiful, impossible people. There was a handsome devil for a king, a frigid angel for a queen, a silent dreamer for an heir, and a relentless hurricane for a prince. 

The devil cheated and stole from people he shouldn’t have, but he didn’t care. His existence was impossible, and impossible things didn’t obey the laws of mortal men. He was hardly ever home, but you’d know when he was, for he would regale the whole place with tales of his exploits, interwoven with a bit of the truth, a bit of his ego, and a shit ton of bullshit. His youngest always believed him, but then again, he believed almost anything you would tell him. His oldest never believed him, but then again, he never believed anything his father would tell him.

The angel cheated and stole from people who deserved it, but she didn’t care. The guilt would still eat her up inside, a quiet, uncontrollable madness. She knew that she could not do this for much longer. Her existence was quite impossible as well, but she could not help but obey the laws of mortal men. She still wept and prayed and sinned. She was never home, but not because she didn’t want to be, but because it wasn’t her home. Not really. Once, she fell in love with somebody she shouldn’t have, had a child with somebody she shouldn’t have, ran away for somebody she shouldn’t have. These were all mistakes she could never forget. Unlike the devil, she was not away from stealing things because it was fun, but because it was her penance. Her punishment for escaping. Her sacrifice to keep them safe. He had once called her a stone-cold psychopath, and he was not wrong. He had once called her a soft and gentle soul, and he was not wrong then either. 

The dreamer never dared to dream. He wanted to, but he knew better. He hoped, but he knew hope was a fickle thing, not made for men like him. He was trapped by the laws of mortal men because he was one. His existence was completely ordinary in a realm of extraordinary, and his father never failed to remind him of that. His father was a liar, but he often told the eldest the truth. It was not out of kindness. He was heir to the kingdom, but more than that, he was heir to the reality behind it. He learned a lot about the truth from his lying father, from his absentee mother, from his eyes. He was very good at observing, and even better at keeping secrets. It’s not particularly difficult to find out things if no one cares if you know. Even in the end, he was still probably the one who knew the most of what was really going on. He didn’t know everything, but he came to know everything that mattered. He did not have a mother or a proper father, but he did have a younger brother, who oozed the impossible. He could not have always been there, but the dreamer could never imagine a time before him. His brother was a source of constant worries and envies, but he was the only reason that the dreamer had any faith in the world at all. If people like him could exist in the world, then maybe it isn’t so bad after all, he had thought to himself. He was a liar, like his father. He lied to the world, his brother, and to himself. But he loved like his mother, pure and unconditional. And so he could not help but love his impossible life, a lucid dream, that was not meant for him. 

The hurricane was a vicious and fragile thing. His existence was a sharp knife, daring others to slide their hands against the blade. He smiled like he wanted others to bleed. He was not made for reality; reality was not made for him. He did not believe in laws, he made them. He did not lie because he did not understand them. In his world, there was no reason for lies. He was dangerous because he was afraid because it was the only way to protect himself from damage, from trouble, both of which seemed to come to him as easy as breathing. He was as honest as a child in his thoughts, in his actions, in his heart. It would be very easy to break him. He had a mysterious, charming father, no mother, and a cautious, careful older brother. He loved his father like he was an impossible thing because he was. He was hardly home, but he was always present in the youngest’s thoughts, a larger than life figure that could do no wrong. He loved his brother like he was an ordinary thing because he was. He was real like nothing else was in his life. He was always home, always present. He had no mother. 

They were a family born out of dreams, waiting to be awoken. Waiting to be destroyed. Waiting to be alive.


End file.
